He paused and waited for her to catch up. “What’s up?”
“Ms. Donovan’s going to be released in another day or two, but we need to make sure she can manage when she gets home. I understand she lives with her son in a second-floor apartment.” She met his gaze. “That’s just not going to work under the circumstances. She can’t possibly cope with either the stairs or a very active toddler.”
Connor had anticipated something like this. He’d already decided that Heather would either come home with him where there would be plenty of people around to help, or he would move into her apartment. Unless, of course, Bridget Donovan intended to hang around until Heather was fully recovered. Given the increasingly irritated calls she was getting from her husband back in Ohio, he doubted that was likely.
“I have a couple of alternative options, but I need to run them past Heather,” he told the social worker. “I assure you, though, when the time comes, Heather will have all the help she needs.”
“You’ll need to fill me in on the plan once the two of you have discussed it,” the woman insisted. “Otherwise, I won’t be able to agree to her release.”
“Not a problem,” he assured her. At least not if Heather was being reasonable. Since he knew how badly she wanted to get out of this place, he suspected that for once she’d be more agreeable than usual.
* * *
After talking to Jill Swanson, Connor made a U-turn and left the hospital. He drove straight to a jewelry store, picked out a diamond ring, stopped by his sister’s shop for a lavish bouquet of bright pink and white peonies, then returned to the hospital. By the time he got back, Heather was napping. Her mother had gone back to the house with Megan for lunch.
Connor sat beside the bed and tried to work out what he was going to say. Proposing was obviously new to him. Did the words matter? Or was it just the intent? For a man who wrote effective opening statements and closing arguments for courtrooms, he was surprisingly inept at putting his feelings into words. Somehow the stakes were way too high.
As he silently rehearsed various options, he glanced over at the bed and saw Heather staring at him, obviously amused.
“Do you have some kind of big court case tomorrow?” she asked.
“No. Why?”
“Because the only time I’ve seen you muttering so intensely under your breath was when you were trying to get a closing argument down pat.”
He met her gaze. “In a way, this is the same thing,” he admitted.
“Oh?”
“A closing argument sums up your case. It tells the court what you want them to take away from all the evidence.”
“I know that,” she said.
“Well, what I have to say to you is a lot like that. I need to present all my evidence, sum it up and then pray you reach the right conclusion.”
She regarded him with a perplexed expression. “You’re not making a lot of sense.” She glanced past him and spotted the vase filled with peonies. “Where did those come from? They look beautiful and smell fabulous.”
“They’re part of my evidence,” he told her. “I want you to know how much I care about you. I know you love peonies.”
She gave him an oddly quizzical look. “Connor, I’ve never doubted your love. You don’t need to bring me flowers to prove anything. The fact that you’ve been here for hours every day tells me all I need to know.”
“Well, here’s the thing,” he began earnestly. “This accident, it changed something for me. That day, when my dad came to tell me what happened, that you were in the hospital, I can’t even begin to tell you how terrified I was. There were a few minutes there when I couldn’t even catch my breath, I was so scared. The drive over here was excruciating, with me not knowing what to expect when I got here. For all I knew you could have…” He shook off the words. “Never mind.”
The mere idea that she could have been dead was too awful to mention. The point was that she was here, alive and on her way to a full recovery, and he would spend every day for the rest of his life being grateful for that.
She reached for his hand. “Connor, it’s okay. I’m right here. The crisis is past. And I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. It’s time for you to start working for Joshua Porter. I’m sure he must be anxious to have you take on some of his cases.”
“Work’s not the issue,” he said impatiently. “I’m trying to say something important here.”
“What’s more important than getting off on the right foot with this new job?” she asked.
“You, dammit! You’re more important. I’m trying to tell you that the day of the accident I realized just how much I love you. I don’t want to lose you, Heather.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small jewelry box with the ring in it and held it out. She stared at it, shock written all over her face.
“What is that?”
He knew she was neither blind nor stupid. She knew what it was. She’d just never expected to see such a thing in his hand. Maybe the element of surprise would be a good thing.
“Marry me, Heather,” he said quietly. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you and our son, taking care of you, making sure you’re happy.”
She didn’t look half as bowled over by the proposal as he’d anticipated. In fact, she looked more confused than anything. Maybe even a little sad, though he had no idea why getting what she’d always wanted would sadden her.
“And you?” she asked. “Will getting married make you happy? Have you changed that much in a week?”
“I’m asking, aren’t I?” he said, unable to control his impatience.
“And I love you for asking, but no,”
